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The Crisis of Our Time 


LEOSTRAUSS 


I am naturally moved by the kind remarks made about me, but 
I would only like to make one brief comment. I am not as gentle 
as my friends would like to present me; surely my enemies would agree 
with me om that point. To come nearer to my subject, the two 
lectures which I am supposed to give tonight and tomorrow are, in 
fact, a single lecture, the theme of which is the crisis of our time 
and the crisis of political philosophy. It would have been possible 
to draw the line between the two lectures at very different points, 
and perhaps I have not drawn it in the best way. So, I ask you 
for your forgiveness if this lecture is fragmentary; it is meant to be 
incomplete. ‘The subject is more precisely, “the crisis of our time 
as a consequence of the crisis of political philosophy.” 

The crisis of our time, which is the point I want to develop, 
has its core in the doubt of what we can call “the Modern Project.” 
That modern project was successful to a considerable extent. It, has 
created a new kind of society, a kind of society that never was before. 
But the inadequacy of the modern project, which has now become 
a matter of general knowledge and of general concern, compels us 
to entertain the thought that this new kind of society, our kind 
of society, must be animated by a spirit other than that which has ani- 
mated it from the beginning. Now this modern project was originated 
by modern political philosophy, by the kind of political philosophy 
which emerged in the 16th and 17th centuries. The end result of 
modern political philosophy is the disintegration of the very idea of 
political philosophy. For most political scientists today, political phi- 
losophy is not more than ideology or myth. 

We have to think of the restoration of political philosophy. We 
have to go back to the point where the destruction of political phi- 


4] 


losophy began, to the beginnings of modern political philosophy, when 
modern philosophy still had to fight against the older kind of political 
philosophy, classical political philosophy, the political philosophy ori- 
ginated by Socrates and elaborated above all by Aristotle. At that 
time, the quarrel of the ancients and the moderns took place, which 
is generally known only as a purely literary quarrel in France and 
in England, the most famous document in England being Swift's 
Battle of the Books. It was, in fact, not merely a literary quarrel. 
It was fundamentally a quarrel between modern philosophy, or science, 
and the older philosophy, or science. ‘The quarrel was completed only 
with the work of Newton, which seemed to settle the issue entirely 
in favor of the moderns. Our task is to reawaken that quarrrel, 
now that the modern answer has been given the opportunity to reveal 
its virtues and to do its worst to the old answer for more than three 
centuries. In order to carry conviction, | must remain as close as 
possible to what is today generally accepted in the West. I cannot 
start from premises which today are agreed upon only by a fairly 
small minority. In other words, I have to argue to a considerable 
extent ad hominem. I hope this will not create a misunderstanding. 


To avoid another kind of misunderstanding, I shall first give a 
sketch of tonights lecture. The crisis of the West has been called 
the decline of the West, in the sense of the final decline of men. 
This view is not tenable, but one cannot deny that a decline, that 
some decline, of the West has taken place. The West has declined 
in power most obviously; its very survival is now threatened. ‘This 
decline, however, does not constitute the crisis of the West. The 
crisis of the West consists in the fact that the West has become 
uncertain of its purpose. This purpose was the universal society, 
a society consisting of equal nations, each consisting of free and!equal 
men and women, with all these nations to be fully developed as 
regards their power of production, thanks to science. Science to be 
understood as essentially in the service of human power, for the relief 
of man’s estate. Science would bring about universal affluence. A state 
in which no one would have any longer any motive for encroaching 
on other men or on other nations. Universal affluence would lead 
to the universal and perfectly just society, as a perfectly happy society. 


Many Western men have become doubtful of this project by the 
self-revelation of Communism as immensely powerful and as radically 
antagonistic to the Western notion of how this universal and just 
society should be established and managed. The antagonism between 
the West and Communism leads to the consequence that no possi- 
bility of a universal society exists in the foreseeable future. Political 
society remains for the foreseeable future what it always has been, 
particular society, society with frontiers, a closed society, concerned 

, with self-improvement. This experience which we have had requires, 


42 


however, not only a political reorientation, but also a reorientation of 
our thoughts regarding principles. 

I mention here three points. First, is this particularism, or dif- 
ferently stated, this patriotism, not in itself better than universalism 
or globalism? Second, is it reasonable to expect justice and happiness 
as a necessary consequence of affluence? Is affluence even a neces- 
sary, although not a sufhcient, condition of virtue and happiness? Is 
there not some truth in the notion of voluntary poverty? Is even 
involuntary poverty an insurmountable obstacle to virtue and hap- 
piness? And third, is the belief that science is essentially in the 
service of human power not a delusion, and even a degrading delusion? 
Now, let me begin. : 

The assertion that we are in the grip of a crisis is hardly in need 
of proof. Every day’s newspapers tell us of another crisis, and all 
these little daily crises can easily be seen to be parts, or ingredients, 
of the one great crisis, the crisis of our time. The core of that crisis, 
I submit, consists in the fact that what was originally a political phi- 
losophy has turned into an ideology. That crisis was diagnosed at 
the end of World War I by Spengler as a going down or decline 
of the West. Spengler understood by the West one culture among 
a small number of high cultures. But the West was for him more 
than one high culture among a number of them. It was for him 
the comprehensive culture, the only culture which had conquered the 
earth. Above all, it was the only culture which was open to all 
cultures, which did not reject the other cultures as forms of barbarism, 
or tolerate them condescendingly as underdeveloped. It is the only 
culture which has acquired full consciousness of culture as such. Whereas 
culture originally meant the culture of the human mind, the derivative 
and modern notion of culture necessarily implies that there is a variety 
of equally high cultures. But, precisely since the West is the culture 
in which culture reaches full self-consciousness, it is the final culture; 
the owl of Minerva begins its flight in the dusk. ‘The decline of the 
West is identical with the exhaustion of the very possibility of high 
culture. The highest possibilities of man are exhausted. But men’s 
highest possibilities cannot be exhausted as long as there are still high 
human tasks, as long as the fundamental riddles which confront man 
have not been solved to the extent to which they can be solved. We 
may, therefore, say — appealing to the authority of science in our age — 
that Spengler’s analysis and prediction is wrong. Our highest authority, 
natural science, considers itself susceptible of infinite progress. And 
this claim does not make sense, it seems, if the fundamental riddles 
are solved. If science is susceptible of infinite progress, there cannot. 
be a meaningful end or completion of history. There can only be 
a brutal stopping of man’s onward march through natural forces acting 
by themselves or directed by human brains and hands. 

However this may be, in one sense Spengler has proved to be 


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right. Some decline of the West has taken place before our eyes. 
In 1913, the West — in fact, this country together with Great Britain 
and Germany — could have laid down the law for the rest of the 
earth without firing a shot. For at least a half century, the West 
controlled the whole globe with ease. ‘Today, so far from ruling the 
globe, the West’s very survival is endangered by the East, as it has 
not been since the beginning. From the Communist Manifesto, it 
would appear that the victory of Communism would be the complete 
victory of the West, of the synthesis which transcends the national 
boundaries of British industry, French revolution, and German phi- 
losophy, or with the East. We see that the victory of Communism 
would, indeed, mean the victory of originally Western natural science, 
but, at the same time, the victory of the most extreme form of Eastern 
despotism. However much the power of the West may have de- 
clined, however great the dangers to the West may be, that decline, 
that danger — nay, the defeat and the destruction of the West — 
would not necessarily prove that the West is in a crisis. The West 
could go down in honor, certain of its purpose. 


The crisis of the West consists in the West having become 
uncertain of its purpose. The West was once certain of its purpose, 
of a purpose in which all men could be united. Hence, it had 
a clear vision of its future as the future of mankind. We no longer 
have that certainty and that clarity. Some of us even despair of the 
future. This despair explains many forms of contemporary Western 
degradation. ‘This is not meant to imply that no society can be healthy 
unless it is dedicated to a universal purpose, to a purpose in which 
all men can be united. A society may be tribal and yet healthy. But 
a society which was accustomed to understand itself in terms of a uni- 
versal purpose cannot lose faith in that purpose without becoming com- 
pletely bewildered. We find such a universal purpose expressly stated 
in our immediate past; for instance, in famous official declarations made 
during the two world wars. These declarations merely restate the 
purpose stated originally by the most successful form of modern poli- 
tical philosophy: a kind of that political philosophy which aspired to 
build on the foundation laid by classical political philosophy, but in 
opposition to the structure erected by classical political philosophy, a 
society superior in truth and justice to the society toward which the 
classics aspired. 

According to that modern ‘project, philosophy or science was no 
longer to be understood as essentially contemplative, but as active. It 
was to be in the service of the relief of man’s estate, to use Bacon’s 
beautiful phrase. It was to be cultivated for the sake of human power. 
It was to enable man to become the master and the owner of nature 
through the intellectual conquest of nature. Philosophy or science, 
which was originally the same thing, should make possible progress 
toward an ever greater prosperity. Thus, everyone would share in all 


44 


the advantages of society or life, and therewith make true the full 
meaning of the natural right of everyone to comfortable self-preservation 
(Locke’s phrase) and all that that right entails, and the natural right of 
everyone to develop all his faculties fully, in concert with everyone 
else’s doing the same. The progress toward. an ever greater prosperity 
would thus become, or render possible, progress toward an ever greater 
freedom and justice. This progress would necessarily be progress to- 
ward a society embracing equally all human beings, a universal league 
of free and equal nations, each nation consisting of free and equal men 
and women. For it had come to be believed that the prosperous, 
free, and just society in a single country, or in a few countries, is not 
possible in the long run. To make the world safe for the Western 
democracies, one must make the whole globe democratic, each country 
in itself, as well as the society of nations. Good order in one country, 
it was thought, presupposes good order in all countries and among all 
countries. The movement toward the universal society, or the uni- 
versal state, was thought to be guaranteed not only by the rationality, 
the universal validity of the goal, but also because the movement toward 
that goal seemed to be the movement of the large majority of men, 
on behalf of the large majority of men. Only those small groups 
of men, who hold in thrall many millions of their fellow human 
beings and who defend their own antiquated interests, resist that 
movement. 


This view of the human situation in general, and of the situation 
in our century in particular, retained a certain plausibility not in 
spite of fascism, but because of it, until Communism revealed itself 
even to the meanest capacities as Stalinism and post-Stalinism; for 
Trotskyism, being a flag without an army, and even without a general, 
was condemned or refuted by its own principle. For some. time, it 
appeared to many teachable Westerners — to say nothing of the un- 
teachable ones — that Communism was only a parallel movement 
to the Western movement; as it were, a somewhat impatient, wild, 
wayward twin who was bound to become mature, patient, and gentle. 
But, except when in mortal danger, Communism responded to fraternal 
greetings with contempt or, at most, with manifestly dissembled signs 
of friendship, and when in mortal danger it was as eager to receive 
Western help as it was determined to give no word of thanks in 
return. It was impossible for the Western movement to understand 
Communism as merely a new version of that external reaction against 
which it had been fighting for centuries. It had to admit that the 
Western project, which in its way had made provision against all 
earlier forms of evil, could not provide against the new form in speech 
or in deed. For some time, it seemed sufficient to say that while 
the Western movement agrees with Communism regarding the goal 
of the universal prosperous society of free and equal men and women, 
it disagrees with it regarding the means. For Communism, the end, 


45 


the common good of the whole human race being the most sacred 
thing, justifies any means. Whatever contributes to the achievement 
of the most sacred end partakes of its sacredness and is, therefore, 
itself sacred. Whatever hinders the achievement of that end is devilish. 
The murder of Lumumba was described by a Communist as a re- 
prehensible murder, by which he implied that there can be irrepre- 
hensible murders, I suppose like the murder of Nagy. 


It came to be seen, then, that there is not only a difference of 
degree, but of kind, between the Western movement and Communism. 
And this difference was seen to concern morality, the choice of 
means. In other words, it became clearer than it had been for some 
time that no bloody or unbloody change of society can eradicate the 
evil in man. As long as there are men, there will be malice, envy, 
and hatred; hence, there cannot be a society which does not have 
to employ coercive restraints. For the same reason, it could no longer 
be denied that Communism will remain as long as it lasts in fact 
and not merely in name: the iron rule of a tyrant which is mitigated 
or aggravated by its fear of palace revolutions. The only restraint 
in which the West can put some confidence is the tyrant’s fear of 
the West's immense military power. 

The experience of Communism has provided the Western, move- 
ment with a twofold lesson: a political lesson, a lesson regarding what 
to expect and what to do in the foreseeable future, and a lesson re- 
garding the principle of politics. For the foreseeable future, there 
cannot be a universal state, unitary or federative. Apart from the 
fact that there does not exist now a universal federation of nations, 
but only one of those nations which are called peace-loving, the feder- 
ation that does exist masks the fundamental cleavage. If that feder- 
ation is taken too seriously, as a milestone of man’s onward march 
toward the perfect and, hence, universal society, one is bound to take 
great risks, supported by nothing but an inherited and perhaps an- 
tiquated hope, and thus endanger the very progress one endeavors 
to bring about. It is imaginable that in the face of the danger of 
thermonuclear destruction, a federation of nations, however incom- 
plete, would outlaw wars. ‘That is to say, wars of aggression. But 
this means that it acts on the assumption that all present boundaries 
are just, in accordance with the self-determination of nations. This 
assumption is a pious fraud, the fraudulence of which is more evident 
than its piety. In fact, the only changes of the present boundaries 
which are provided for are those not disagreeable to the Communists. 
One must also not forget the glaring disproportion between the legal 
equality and the factual inequality of the confederates. This factual 
inequality is recognized in the expression, “underdeveloped nations,” 
an expression, I have been told, coined by Stalin. The expression 
implies the resolve to develop them fully. That is to say, to make 
them either Communist or Western. And this despite the fact that 


46 


the West claims to stand for cultural pluralism. Even if one could 
still contend that the Western purpose is as universal as the Communist, 
one must rest satished for the foreseeable future with a practical par- 
ticularism. The situation resembles the one, as has often been said, 
which existed during those centuries when both Christianity and Islam 
each raised its claim, but each had to be satisfied with uneasily co- 
existing with its antagonist. All this amounts to saying that for the 
foreseeable future political society remains what it always has been: 
a partial or particular society whose most urgent and primary task is 
its self-preservation and whose highest task is its self-improvement, 
As for the meaning of self-improvement, we may observe that the same 
experience which has made the West doubtful of the viability of a 
world society has made it doubtful of the belief that affluence is a 
sufficient and even necessary condition of happiness and justice. Affluence 
does not cure the deepest evils. 

I must say a few words about another ingredient of the modern 
project, and this needs a somewhat more detailed discussion. Very 
briefly, we can say that the modern project was distinguished from the 
earlier view by the fact that it implied that the improvement of society 
depends decisively on institutions, political or economic, as distinguished 
from the formation of character. An implication of this view was 
the simple separation — as distinguished from a distinction — of law 
from morality. Beyond positive law, there is a sphere of enlightenment 
indeed; that is to say, of a purely theoretical education as distinguished 
from moral education or formation of character. We may illustrate 
this by the example of one of the heroes of that modern project, by 
the example of Hobbes. Hobbes was, of course, not a simple absolutist 
who was charmed by Nero and such people. Hobbes wanted to have 
enlightened absolute sovereigns, “enlightened despots,” as they came 
to be called. But his whole construction was of such a kind that he 
guaranteed only the possibility and necessity of despotism. The en- 
lightened character of the despot remained a mere matter of hope. 

Now this situation is repeated in a different way in the develop- 
ment of modern liberal democracy. Liberal democracy claims to be 
responsible government, a political order in which the government is 
responsible to the governed. The governed, of course, also have some 
responsibility to the government; the governed are supposed to obey 
the laws. But the key point is this: in order to be responsible, the 
government must have no secrets from the governed. “Open covenants 
openly arrived at” — the famous formula of President Wilson expresses 
this thought most clearly. Of course, liberal democracy also means 
limited government, the distinction between the public and the private. 
Not only must the private sphere be protected by the law, but it must 
also be understood to be impervious to the law. The laws must protect 
the sphere in which everyone may act and think as he pleases, in which 
he may be as arbitrary and prejudiced as he likes. “My home is my 


47 


castle.” But this is not simply true. My home is not simply my castle; 
it may be entered with a search warrant. ‘The true place of secrecy 
is not the home but the voting booth. We can say the voting booth 
is the home of homes, the seat of sovereignty, the seat of secrecy. 
The sovereign consists of the individuals who are in no way responsible, 
who can in no way be held responsible: the irresponsible individual. 
This was not simply the original notion of liberal democracy. ‘The 
original notion was that this sovereign individual was a conscientious 
individual, tre individual limited and guided by his conscience. 

It is perfectly clear that the conscientious individual creates the 
same difficulty as Hobbes’ enlightened despot. You cannot give a 
legal definition of what constitutes the conscientious individual. You 
cannot limit voting rights to conscientious people as you can limit 
voting rights by property qualifications, literacy tests, and the like. 
Conscientiousness can only be fostered by non-legal means, by moral 
education. For this no proper provision is made, and the change in this 
respect is well known to all of you. ‘This change which has taken 
place and is still taking place may be called the decline of liberal 
democracy into permissive egalitarianism. Whereas the core of liberal 
democracy is the conscientious individual, the core of permissive egali- 
tarianism is the individual with his urges. We only have to take the 
case of the conscientious objector; whatever you may think of con- 
scientious objectors, there is no doubt that they are people who are 
perfectly willing to lay down their lives for something which they 
regard as right. The man who wants to indulge his urges does not 
have the slightest intention to sacrifice his life, and hence also his 
urges, to the satisfaction of his urges. ‘This is the moral decline which 
has taken p.ace. 

Let me illustrate this great change by another example. I have 
spoken at the beginning of this lecture of the concept of culture. 
In its origiral meaning, it meant the culture of the human mind. 
By virtue of a change which took place in the 19th century, it became 
possible to speak of culture in the plural (the cultures). What has 
been done on a grand scale, especially by Spengler, has been repeated 
on a somewhat lower level, but with at least as great effect, by such 
anthropologists as Ruth Benedict. What, then, does culture mean 
today? In anthropology and in certain parts of sociology the word, 
“culture,” is, of course, always used in the plural, and in such a way 
that you have a culture of suburbia, a culture of juvenile gangs, non- 
delinquent end even delinquent. And you can say, according to this 
recent notion of culture, there is not a single human being who is not 
cultured because he belongs to a culture. At the same time, fortunately, 
the older notion is still maintained; when I made this remark some 
of you laughed, because when we speak of a cultured human being 
we still imply that not all human beings are cultured or possess culture. 
Looking forward to the end of the road, one can say that according 


48 


to the view now prevailing in the social sciences every human being 
who is not an inmate of a lunatic asylum is a cultured human being. 
At the frontiers of research, of which we hear so much today, we find 
the interesting question whether the inmates of lunatic asylums also 
do not have a culture of their own. 

Let me now return to my argument. The doubt of the modern 
project, which is today quite widespread, is not merely a strong but 
vague feeling. It has acquired the status of scientific exactitude. One 
may wonder whether there is a single social scientist left who would 
assert that the universal and prosperous society constitutes the rational 
solution of the human problem. For present-day social science admits 
and even proclaims its inability to validate any value judgments proper. 
The teaching originated by modern political philosophy, those heroes 
of the 17th century, in favor of the universal and prosperous society 
has admittedly become an ideology. ‘That is to say, a teaching not 
superior in truth and justice to ‘any other among the innumerable 
ideologies. Social science which studies all ideologies is itself free 
from all ideological biases. ‘Through this Olympian freedom it over- 
comes the crisis of our time. ‘That crisis may destroy the conditions 
of social science; it cannot affect the validity of its findings. Social 
science has not always been as skeptical or as restrained as it has 
become during the last two generations. The change in the character 
of social science is not unconnected with the change in the status 
of the modern project. ‘The modern project was originated by phi- 
losophers, and it was originated as something required by nature, by 
natural rights. The project was meant to satisfy, in the most perfect 
manner, the most powerful and natural needs of men. Nature was 
to be conquered for the sake of man, who was supposed to possess 
a nature, an unchangeable nature. he originators of the project took 
it for granted that philosophy and science are identical. After some 
time, it appeared that the conquest of nature requires the conquest of 
human nature too and, in the first place, the questioning of the un- 
changeability of human nature. After all, an unchangeable human 
nature might set absolute limits to progress. Accordingly, the natural 
needs of men could no longer direct the conquest of nature. The 
direction had to come from reason as distinguished from nature, from 
the rational “Ought” as distinguished from the neutral “Is.” Thus, 
philosophy, logic, ethics, aesthetics, as the study of the “Ought” or 
the norms, became separated from science as the study of the “Is.” 
While the study of the “Is,” or science, succeeded ever more in increasing 
man’s power, the ensuing discredit of reason precluded distinction 
between the wise, or right, and the foolish, or wrong, use of power. 
Science, separated from philosophy, cannot teach wisdom. ‘There are 
still some people who believe that this predicament will disappear as 
soon as social science and psychology have caught up with physics and 
chemistry. ‘This belief is wholly unreasonable. For social science and 


49 


psychology, however perfected, being sciences, can only bring about 
a still further increase of man’s power. They will enable man to 
manipulate men still better than ever before. ‘They will as little teach 
man how to use his power over men or non-men as physics and 
chemistry do. The people who indulge this hope have not grasped 
the bearing of the distinction between facts and values, which they 
preach all the time. This is, indeed, the core of modern science, of 
modern social science as it has finally developed in the last two gener- 
ations: the distinction between facts and values, with the understanding 
that no distinction between good or bad values is rationally possible. 
Any end is as defensible as any other. From the point of view of 
reason, all values are equal. The task with which academic teachers 
in the social sciences are concerned is primarily to face this issue posed 
by the fact-value distinction. I believe that one can show that this 
fundamental premise of the present-day social sciences is untenable, 
and that one can show it on a variety of grounds. But I am now con- 
cerned with a somewhat broader issue. 

When we reflect on the fact-value distinction, we see one element 
of it which is quite striking. ‘The citizen does not make the fact- 
value distinction. He is as sure that he can reasonably distinguish 
between good and bad, just and unjust, as he can distinguish between 
true and false, or as he can judge so-called factual statements. ‘The 
distinction between facts and values is alien to the citizen’s under- 
standing of political things. The distinction between facts and values 
becomes necessary, it seems, only when the citizen’s understanding 
of political things is replaced by the specifically scientific understanding. 
The scientific understanding implies, then, a break with the pre- 
scientific understanding. Yet, at the same time, it remains dependent 
on the pre-scientific understanding. I may illustrate this by a most 
simple example. If someone is sent out by a sociology department to 
interview people, he is taught all kinds of things; he is given very 
detailed instructions. But one thing he is not told: address your 
questions to people, to human beings, and not to dogs, trees, cats, 
and soon. Furthermore, he is not even told how to tell human beings 
from dogs. This knowledge is presupposed. It is never changed, 
never refined, never affected by anything he learns in social science 
classes. This is only the most massive example of how much allegedly 
self-sufficient scientific knowledge presupposes of “a priori” knowledge, 
of pre-scientific knowledge which is not questioned for one moment 
in the whole process of science. Now, regardless of whether the 
superiority of the scientific understanding to the pre-scientific under- 
standing can be demonstrated or not, the scientific understanding is 
surely secondary or derivative. Hence, social science cannot reach 
clarity about its doings if it does not dispose of a coherent and com- 
prehensive understanding of what one may call the common sense 
understanding of political things which precedes all scientific under- 


50 


standing; in other words, if we do not primarily understand political 
things as they are experienced by the citizen or statesman. Only if 
it disposes of such a coherent and comprehensive understanding of 
its basis or matrix can it possibly show the legitimacy and make in- 
telligible the character of that peculiar modification of the primary 
understanding of political things which is the scientific understanding. 
This, I believe, is an evident necessity if social science or political 
science is to be or to become a rational enterprise.. Being a modifica- 
tion of the primary understanding of political things, it must be 
understood as such a modification. We must understand the pre-scien- 
tific, the common sense understanding, the citizen’s understanding of 
political things before we can truly understand what the modification 
effected by scientific understanding means. 


But how can we get that understanding? How can our poor 
powers be sufhcient for an elaboration of the pre-scientific primary 
citizens’ understanding of political things? Fortunately for us, this 
terrific burden, the most basic work which can be done and must 
be done in order to make political science and, therefore, also the 
other social sciences truly sciences, rational enterprises, has been done. 
As in a way every one of you knows, it has been done by Aristotle 
in his Politics. ‘That work supplies us with the classic and unforgettable 
analysis of the primary understanding of political phenomena. 


This assertion is exposed to a very great variety of seemingly devas- 
tating objections. I shall devote tomorrow’s political lecture to a pre- 
sentation of what this enterprise, Aristotelian political science, means. 
I would like to devote the rest of this lecture to a strict ad hominem 
argument in order to lead, as it were, the now preponderant part in 
the profession, the so-called behavioralists, if they are willing to listen 
to an argument, to a somewhat better understanding of what they 
would do if they were well advised. When you look around yourself, 
not at the University of Detroit, not at other Catholic institutions, 
but at non-Catholic institutions, I think you can say that with very 
few exceptions political philosophy has disappeared. Political phi- 
losophy, the decay of political philosophy into ideology, reveals itself 
today most obviously in the fact that in both research and teaching 
political philosophy has been replaced by the history of political phi- 
losophy. Many of you have read or used the famous work by Sabine, 
and you only have to read the preface of Sabine to see that what 
I am going to say is simply correct. Now, what does this substitution 
of the history of political philosophy for political philosophy mean? 
It is, strictly speaking, absurd to replace political philosophy by the 
history of political philosophy. It means to replace a doctrine which 
claims to be true by a survey of errors, and that is exactly what Sabine, 
for example, does. So, political philosophy cannot be replaced by 
the history of political philosophy. 


5l 


The discipline which takes the place of political philosophy is the 
one which shows the impossibility of political philosophy, and that 
discipline is, of course, logic. What, for the time being, is still 
tolerated under the name, “history of political philosophy,” will find 
its place within a rational scheme of research and teaching in foot- 
notes to the chapters in logic textbooks which deal with the distinction 
between factual judgments and value judgments. These footnotes 
will supply slow learners with examples of the faulty transition by 
which political philosophy stands or falls, from factual judgments to 
value judgments. They will give examples from Plato, Aristotle, Locke, 
Hume, or Rousseau and will show when and where these famous men 
committed a blunder which every ten-year-old child now knows how 
to avoid. Yet, it would be wrong to believe that in the new dispen- 
sation, according to the demands of logical positivism or behaviorial 
science, the place once occupied by political philosophy is filled entirely 
by logic, however enlarged. A considerable part of the matter formerly 
treated by political philosophy is now treated by non-philosophic po- 
litical science, which forms part of social science. ‘This new political 
science is concerned with discovering laws of political behavior and, 
ultimately, universal laws of political behavior. Lest it mistake the - 
peculiarities of the politics of the times and the places in which 
social science is at home for the character of all politics, it must study 
also the politics of other climes and other ages. The new political 
science thus becomes dependent upon a kind of study which belongs 
to the comprehensive enterprise called universal history. Now, it is 
controversial whether history can be modeled on the natural sciences 
or not, and, therefore, whether the aspiration of the new political science 
to become scientific in the sense of the natural sciences is sound. 


At any rate, the historical studies in which the new political 
science must engage must become concerned not only with the workings 
of institutions, but with the ideologies informing these institutions as 
well. Within the context of these studies, the meaning of an ideology 
is primarily the meaning in which its adherents understand it. In some 
cases, the ideologies are known to have been originated by outstanding 
men. In these cases, it becomes necessary to consider whether and 
how the ideology as conceived by the originator was modihed by its 
adherents. For, precisely, if only the crude understanding of ideologies 
can be politically effective, it is necessary to grasp the characteristics of 
crude understanding. If what they call the routinization of charisma 
is a permitted theme, the vulgarization of thought ought to be a per- 
mitted theme also. One kind of ideology consists of the teachings 
of the political philosophers. ‘These teachings may have played only 
a minor political role, but one cannot know this before one knows 
these doctrines solidly. This solid knowledge consists primarily in 
understanding the teachings of the political philosophers as they them- 
selves meant them. Surely, every one of them was mistaken in be- 


a2 


lieving that his teaching was a sound teaching regarding political things. 
Through a reliable tradition we know that this belief forms part of 
a rationalization, but the process of rationalization is not so thoroughly 
understood that it would not be worthwhile to study it in the case 
of the greatest minds. For all we know, there may be various kinds 
of rationalizations, etc., etc. It is, then, necessary to study the political 
philosophies, not only as they were understood by their originators, in 
contradistinction to the way in which they were understood by their 
adherents and various kinds of their adherents, but also by their ad- 
versaries and even by detached or indifferent bystanders or historians. 
For indifference does not offer a sufficient guarantee against the danger 
that one identifies the view of the originator with a compromise be- 
tween the views of his adherents and those of his adversaries. The 
general understanding of the political philosophies which is then ab- 
solutely necessary on the basis of behavioral political science may be 
said to have been rendered possible today by the shaking of all tra- 
ditions; the crisis of our time may have the accidental advantage of 
enabling us to understand in an untraditional, a fresh, manner what 
was hitherto understood only in a traditional, derivative manner. 


Social science, then, will not live up to its claim if it does not 
concern itself with the genuine understanding of the political phi- 
losophies proper, and therewith, primarily because it comes first, of 
classical political philosophy. As I indicated, such an understanding 
cannot be presumed to be available. It is sometimes asserted today that 
such an understanding is not even possible because all historical under- 
standing is relative to the point of view of the historian, his country, 
his time. The historian cannot understand, it is said, the teaching 
as it was meant by its originator, but he necessarily understands it 
differently than its originator understood it. Ordinarily, the historian’s 
understanding is inferior to the originator’s understanding. In the 
best case, the understanding will be a creative transformation of the 
original teaching. Yet, it is hard to see how one can speak of the 
creative transformation of the original teaching if it is not possible 
to grasp the original teaching as such. 

Be this as it may, the following point seems to be of crucial im- 
portance. To the extent to which the social scientist succeeds in this 
kind of study, which is required of him by the demands of his own 
science, he not only enlarges the horizon of present-day social science; 
he even transcends the limitations of that social science. For he learns 
to look at things in a manner which is, as it were, forbidden to the 
social scientist. He will have learned from his logic that his science 
rests on certain hypotheses, certainties, or assumptions. He learns now 
to suspend these assumptions because, as long as he maintains them, 
he has no access to his subject matter. He is thus compelled to make 
the assumptions of social science his theme. Far from being merely 
one of the innumerable themes of social science, history of political 


53 


philosophy, and not logic, proves to be the pursuit concerned with 
the presuppositions of social science. ‘These presuppositions prove to 
be modifications of the principles of modern political philosophy, which, 
in their turn, prove to be modifications of the principles of classical 
political philosophy. ‘To the extent to which a behavioral political 
scientist takes his science and its requirements seriously, he is compelled 
to engage in such a study, in such a historical study of his own disci- 
pline, and he cannot conduct that study without questioning the 
dogmatic premises of his own science. ‘Therewith, his horizon is en- 
larged. He must at least consider the possibility that the older political 
science was sounder and truer than what is regarded as political science 
today. 

Such a return to classical political philosophy is both necessary 
and tentative or experimental. Not in spite, but because it is tentative, 
it must be carried out seriously; that is to say, without squinting at 
our present-day predicament. ‘There is no danger that we can ever 
become oblivious of this predicament, since that predicament is the 
incentive to our whole concern with the classics. We cannot reasonably 
expect that a fresh understanding of classical political philosophy will 
supply us with recipes for today’s use. The relative success of modern 
political philosophy has brought into being a kind of society wholly 
unknown to the classics, a kind of society in which the classical princi- 
ples as stated and elaborated by the classics are not immediately 
applicable. Only we living today can possibly find a solution to the 
problems of today. An adequate understanding of the principles, as 
elaborated by the classics, may be the indispensable starting point for 
an adequate analysis, to be achieved by us, of present-day society in 
its peculiar character, and for the wise application, to be achieved by 
us, of these principles to our tasks. 


RA